


Subject Papa

by Woozletania



Series: Sanctuary [12]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-24 03:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15621789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woozletania/pseuds/Woozletania
Summary: Papa tries to get used to his new life at Sanctuary, but just one day in, his schedule is shattered by a very friendly ferret.





	1. The first day

He woke shivering, curled in a tight ball and panting in terror. Someone was petting him, stroking his fur gently and speaking softly.

"It's all right," the someone said. "They aren't here. They can't hurt you any more."

Papa blinked awake. He was curled up in one of the small-size Uplift rooms in the common quarters. This room had two beds, one narrow and long in the biped style and his, round and with a raised, padded edge. His roommate, a bare-tailed mammal with purple ears and a mouthful of sharp teeth, was stroking his fur.

"Sorry." Papa rubbed his eyes with his one furry hand and spent a moment grooming his face fur. It was an instinctive thing and and soon he was using both hands, the other a thing of gleaming metal and dark, textured pads. It even had a sense of touch. A moment after that he realized what he was doing and stopped.

"Sorry," he repeated. "It's just..."

"It's all right," the opossum said. He sat back on a round hassock. "I have nightmares sometimes too. Yours sounded bad or I wouldn't have touched you without asking."

"Yeah." Papa considered the possum. Ehrlich's fleshy tail ended six inches from his rump, continuing as a segmented, endlessly flexible tentacle with a strong prehensile tip. Both hands were cybernetic too and his tail showed joints where the tip could be removed and a different tool attached. If he hadn't been rescued who knows how little flesh and fur he'd have left now.

"You're new," the possum said. "You just got the rest of your Uplift. Don't worry about instinctive behaviors unless they make you want to attack someone or put you in danger. We all have them. Breaker has to fight off hibernation in the winter, I've heard, the pure carnivores have predatory impulses to deal with, some of the herbivores have trouble with freezing up when startled..."

"And nightmares," Papa said, and shivered. It was fading, thankfully. Something about a test, shocks when he got a wrong answer, more intense each time until his skin sizzled. Not so much a dream as a memory, really.

"Nightmares," the possum said, and wrapped his cybernetic hands around his knees. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"Shocks. Shocks when I got an answer wrong." Papa rubbed his shoulder in an unconscious motion. The scars were gone, healed at the clinic, but sometimes he thought he still felt the pain. "Bigger shock each time I made a mistake until..."

"That one," Ehrlich muttered. "Yeah, I know that one."

Time to put it behind him. Papa waved at the window and the tinting faded enough that he could see the glow of sunrise. He hopped down from the bed and pulled on his harness with its communicator and the red banding that meant he was a new Uplift. Ehrlich's had the same bands. They roomed together because until the next lab was busted or other Uplifts freed they were the newest inhabitants of Sanctuary. Six months was the probationary and training interval. Ehrlich had been here a month, himself almost a week, though until yesterday afternoon he was pre-Uplift and then unconscious. He'd spent the evening adjusting to his new mind and meeting people, learning where everything was.

"Just remember," the possum said. "You're not alone. If you want there's a group sleep room. Some people find it helps keep the terrors away if they feel and smell friends."

Papa shook his head and padded out of the room on all fours. It was breakfast time and his quarters were only a minute's walk from the commissary. Sanctuary was small, a ring of training buildings and quarters, a few offices, the clinic. Most of the space was grass and trees. A sports field where he'd seen Uplifts and a couple of humans playing a game involving a ball and a net, the get-together area where he'd talked to his son last night, before Rocket and the other Guardians whisked off to some mission or other. Maybe they were going after one of the labs they'd learned about from Master.

Papa gritted his teeth. Master wasn't Master any more. He was just a man in jail, being pumped for information by Nova Corps and after that, rotting in a cell for the rest of his life. Rocket assured him the man wouldn't get out and if he did, his son would be waiting with a knife. But months of drugs and surgery and 'tests' left their mark. He'd been Master's toy from the moment he could think. It was hard not to think of the man as someone to obey.

"Hey," Ehrlich said, and elbowed him in the flank. "You're daydreaming. We're almost there."

A few other Uplifts were in view, chatting as they drifted toward the commissary. Most were smaller than humans, but a few were larger. Most walked on two feet but a few went on all fours the way he did. Some were even 'feral' enough they habitually traveled that way. He had little choice. He'd never gotten the major surgeries most Uplifts received that made them at least somewhat humanoid. He was just a somewhat large raccoon with better hands and a smart brain. 

"Pardon," said Breaker, the massive bear Uplift as she made her way past. She, too was on all fours. She was ten times as heavy as Papa and Ehrlich together, and a frightening combat Uplift, but he'd yet to hear her utter an unkind word. She pushed through the commissary door with them on her heels.

An arc of tables, some high in the human style, some set low for Uplifts, was matched by an arc of food kiosks. Some were automated but most had fresh-cooked food and his eyes went to the fluffy white Uplift tinkering with the spicing of one.

Alyssum. Long-bodied, short legged, dark eyes, a brush of white tail, pink nosepad and pawpads. She smelled like flowers, he remembered. There was still a whiff of her on his hands from grooming her last night. It'd been an instinctive thing, petting and ordering her fur as they talked, but she hadn't complained.

She motioned him over and showed what she was doing. "Some of us have different dietary needs," she churred. "This one is for the pure carnivores. Most of this food is grown or made with molecular assemblers, and the meat has to be perfect or they aren't happy." She sprinkled a little something onto a blood-raw pile of meat and organ fragments. "There, a little taste of fear. They like that."

She stepped aside as a dark-furred Uplift, as long of body and as short-legged as herself but larger, padded over and accepted a bowl full. He snapped up a bite and nodded his approval before heading to a table occupied by a black-furred bunny, a gray cat Uplift and the enormous bear they saw earlier. Papa noted how there seemed to be an invisible barrier around the dark-furred one. As he walked, people stepped aside so that no one was ever within easy bite distance.

"Pure combat Uplift," Alyssum churred. "Combat reflexes. Best not to bump into Sharptooth, he's a little, um, jumpy. Also very pointy." She grinned and waved them to the next kiosk, where Papa and Ehrlich served themselves an assortment of fruit, bread and meat.

Alyssum tinkered with a couple of other dishes before joining them at their table. It was low-set, with padded seats only a few inches off the ground. Most Uplifts have shorter legs than humans and a low-slung chair was good for a feral like Papa too. He just plopped his butt down and leaned forward with his tail hanging over the back. Even the human-style chairs here had a hole for a tail, just in case an Uplift sat there.

"I guess the Guardians are gone for a while," Ehrlich said between bites. His plate was mostly vegetables along with (presumably) vat grown bugs, while Papa's featured a couple of cooked crustaceans that smelled so good they made his nose twitch. Instinctively he peeled away the shells to get at the meat. Or maybe it was memory? He sort of remembered eating this like this before. Was he remembering something new from Earth? 

He'd lived for years there are an animal, unlike Rocket, who was born in captivity. Little bits of his pre-Uplift existence nagged at Papa occasionally, like the feel of crayfish shell and the taste of their flesh.

"I guess," Papa replied. He knew he couldn't let on that Rocket was his son so he guessed that extended to any other information about the Guardians he possessed. Not that he had a lot. "They left sometime in the night I think."

Alyssum was silent, looking across the table at Papa, and Ehrlich suddenly stood up with his tray. "Hey, sorry, I just remembered I need to talk to Foxtrot. Catch up with you later."

Papa quizzically watched the possum walk away but his attention returned to Alyssum when she put her little clawed hand on his. "I liked talking to you last night," she churred. "I know you're getting used to, well, everything still. But I think you're doing a good job at it."

"Thanks," Papa said, and when they were done eating, when the last scraps of meat were extracted from the shellfish and the last bit of fruit devoured, he found he didn't want to go. He reached for his wristband to see what he had scheduled today, but just didn't have the heart. Instead he kept talking.

"I don't know when you find the time to sleep," he said, and gestured at the chow hall. "I see you all the time pushing that cart with drinks and snacks, and then you're in here, or over at the counseling office helping people."

"I like to stay busy," she churred. "I don't sleep eight hours through. Nap an hour, work a bit. And the cart has a motor," she said with a smile. "Don't tell anyone."

"Still," he said. Most of the Uplifts and all but one humanoid had left the commissary. He'd lost track of how long he'd been here. "Want some help straightening up?"

"I'd love that," she churred, and Papa smiled. He might be a feral but he had good hands and, it turned out, he really liked washing dishes. He had vague pre-Uplift memories of hunting for creatures to eat by feeling around in cool stream water, and when his hands were soaked in dishwater he found the fleshy one became marvelously sensitive. It made him miss, briefly, having two normal hands, but the metal one was good too and it was hard to dwell on it with Alyssum cheerfully steering him from one kitchen task to another. 

Elsewhere, his failure to check his schedule was noticed. "Cleva," Paul Foster said, "Check Papa's monitor. I'm sure he just forgot but..."

His Xandarian head nurse flicked a couple of hovering screens into existence. "He's fine, sir. Looks like he's in the commissary."

"Is he," Doc Foster said. He flicked up a screen of his own. As Sanctuary's chief doctor he had the authority to use the many security cameras. 

"Oh," Cleva said as she looked over his shoulder. Her red-pink skin was a contrast to his own tan. "Looks like he's doing dishes with Alyssum. I can page him to remind him about his checkup."

"No..." Paul waved the screen away. "The checkup will wait and he has months to decide what he wants to do with his life. Let him relax. He's here to heal. If working with Alyssum helps, then let him work."

It did help. Papa forgot about his nightmare and the phantom pain in his shoulder as he worked side by side with the nice-smelling ferret. She was a busy creature, always with another dish to set up in a cooker for later or project to work on. It was two hours later, after he'd washed dishes and learned half a dozen recipes, when she finally yawned. 

"Oh," she said sleepily. "Silly me. I need a nap before the lunch crowd, if you'll walk me home."

Home. There was a concept. Where was his? Earth, that he remembered mostly as smells and sounds from before he was taken away and Uplifted? With Rocket, his son? Or here? What was he going to do with his life?

Just around back of the commissary was a little round hut, less than ten feet across and five feet tall. One side had a round opening one ferret wide, curtained, with a small porch she could sit on and get used to being awake before setting off. On either side of the porch, up against the hut was a carpet of white flowers, sweet smelling and low to the ground. At each end some purple ones were sprinkled in.

"See," she said, and stroked a hand along the flowers. "Smell."

He was already on all fours and already knew the smell. "It smells like you, Alyssum."

"Is is," she said with a smile. "This," she stroked the flowers again, "Is an Earth plant. Alyssum. Doctor Foster buys Earth plant seeds and sometimes is allowed to plant them here at Sanctuary. I got my name because he said these flowers are like me. Low to the ground," she fell to all fours and wasn't much taller than the plants, "And sweet smelling."

"And pretty," he said without thinking. She smiled and disappeared through the little round opening, her fur flattening as she disappeared in one long slide. A moment water her whiskery muzzle reappeared.

"Come in," she churred. "I'll show you my place."

Papa hesitated, then shrugged and squeezed in after her. He was broader in the beam than the long noodle of ferret but he wriggled he way in and looked around.

To an Uplift the size of a big raccoon the hut was surprisingly spacious. A ring of light tiles cast enough of a glow to see by and most of the walls were clear display glass. He suspected she could make her home effectively transparent if she close. To one side was a little constantly flowing waterfall for drinking and to the other was a relief station she must back into to use. That seemed natural for a close-to-feral ferret. Around the base of the dome were a series of shallow drawers where she kept her possessions and more of them lined the base of the raised platform which supported her bed.

She'd already flowed into the nest of blankets surrounded by a raised rim like the one his own bed had. She gestured him closer - not that he could be far away and still be in the same little hut - and leaned out to nuzzle his neck.

"I don't really need a nap," she churred. "Come in and keep me company. We have an hour or two before I need to get the lunchroom set up."

Again he hesitated, but only for a moment. He liked her, but he never thought things would progress so fast. Yet here he was. The last time he was in a situation like this he was just an animal, but the existence of his son showed that he knew what to do back then. 

Adding an Uplifted brain to the mix confused the issue, and he pawed at her clumsily as she wrapped herself around him. But though their bodies weren't quite the same, what they wanted to do wasn't that complicated. In the end she never did get that nap, just the company of an intelligent and feral-shaped raccoon who, it turned out, fitted nicely into bed with a long bendy ferret. He was a fast learner, which was a good thing. Alyssum had a lot to teach him.


	2. Checkup time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papa makes a belated visit to the doctor for a checkup and Sharptooth has something to say to the new Uplift.

"I'm sorry I'm late, doctor Foster," Papa said. He lingered by the door, on all fours, ears down head low. Don't hit me, his posture said, all the while hunched up to absorb the blow he knew was coming. Ready to run, but knowing he'd be hurt even more if he tried.

Paul said nothing. He sat back in his chair and watched as Papa slowly drew strength from some inner source. Gradually his fearful posture eased, and as neither harsh words nor blows were hurled at him his ears finally came up. Still the doctor waited until Papa stood up on his hindpaws and rubbed his furry face with his hands.

"Stupid," the raccoon said. "Sorry, doctor. I know you're not going to hit me. It's just...habit."

Paul nodded. He gestured to a low-set hassock made for the smaller Uplifts and waited until Papa padded over and sat. "You're not in trouble, Papa. Sanctuary was created to help Uplifts like you. Some need a schedule to keep focused, to move past their...upbringing." His mouth twisted in distaste at what Papa and many others went through before their rescue. "But not all do. There are some things you'll need to do here, but there is no hurry. If you miss anything you can make it up later, so take your time. Heal."

"Six months, right?" Papa absently scratched himself behind one ear with a foot, grimaced as he realized what he was doing, then shrugged and did it again.

"Six months is the usual. That's enough for most to recover, get some idea what they want to do for a living. Cases like yours, rare as they are, get a year. Most Uplifts have some training by the time they get here.”

"And do they have to do what they were trained to do?"

Paul sighed and waved a large hovering screen into existence. With a few gestures he populated it with recordings, or maybe live views of various Uplifts. A long, sleek-bodied one in a form fitting armored harness, slinking along on all fours. A subdued Nova emblem was on the flank, and a smart gun mounted on the feral Uplift's back swiveled as it turned its head. Another weapon was hard-mounted to the helmet and sharp metal claws ornamented the foot armor. Sharptooth, or someone shaped like him.

On the next screen a big-tailed black and white Uplift Papa recognized from the get together last night was swiftly assembling a device. He snapped the last piece of the pistol in place and slapped the timer next to him. The view pulled back to show the Uplifts on either side, one already done and the other fitting the last part in place before slapping her own timer.

On the last screen Alyssum, padding from one cooking station to another as she got dinner ready for hungry humanoids and Uplifts. Papa knew now he was seeing a live feed. He'd helped her start some of those dishes. More telling was the pink spot at the base of her left ear where he'd nipped her earlier. His love bite had been a trifle aggressive but she hadn't complained.

"Some Uplifts stick with the function for which they were made," Doctor Foster said. "Because they like doing it. That the enjoyment they get from it comes partly from conditioning doesn't change the fact that they choose to continue doing it. Choice, Papa. No one tells you what to make of yourself here."

"No masters," Papa murmured.

Paul Foster shrank the three windows and added three more. A brown bunny Uplift, tending a garden he recognized as one of the ones here; a horned creature plinking the strings of a musical instrument with cybernetic fingers; a feline Uplift doing a series of spectacular handsprings in front of an audience.

"Some choose to do different things. Move on. And you, Papa, have more choice than most."

Papa tore his eyes away from Alyssum, still stirring a pot. "How, sir?"

"Paul or 'doctor' is fine," Doctor Foster said gently. "Most Uplifts get training by direct neural feed before they are rescued. You didn't get any of that. Your Uplift was chemical, and when we made it permanent with implants, we didn't program anything in except language. What that means, Papa, is that you are smart and will learn very quickly, but you get to choose what you want to learn."

"No masters," Papa repeated. "What happens now?"

"I give you a post-Uplift checkup, and then over the next few weeks you'll have the opportunity to assist at various jobs here at Sanctuary. You will hopefully find one you like. Medical assistant, possibly even doctor, technician, social worker, maintenance, security, military and others."

Papa nodded, and hopped up onto a low-set examining table as Paul stood up. "Are you going to ask why I was late?"

"I know why," the doctor said as he ran a scanner over Papa, first one shoulder and then the other. "Because you are in my care I am allowed to monitor your health and location via your bracelet." He nodded at the plastic band around Papa's one furry wrist. The other, of course, was cybernetic. "When you didn't appear I checked up on you to make sure you were all right."

Papa digested that as Doctor Foster touched the knuckles of his cybernetic hand with a sensor. "Make a fist," Paul said, then "Put your hand in this box and tell me what you feel."

"Disks," Papa said at once. "Three different sizes. The middle ones are a different material, lighter, smoother. Holes in the middle. They're called washers, right?"

He drew back as Paul shook his head. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no. You just tell your son that if he ever gets tired of gallivanting around the galaxy, I've got a job waiting for him. Two jobs, actually..." Doctor Foster looked Papa over. "He's amazing with his hands. I'd sponsor him into medical school and I wouldn't be the only one who'd want to hire him to make things." He touched the exposed metal around Papa's right eye. "Cybernetics of this quality aren't normally made by one man. It usually takes a team, a factory."

Papa was staring over the doctor's shoulder. Paul didn't need to turn to know what he was looking at. "She's very nice, isn't she? She knows a hundred recipes for poison, but she doesn't want to make that. She just wants to make people happy by feeding them food they like."

"Poison?" Papa drew back. "Why would she know how to do that?"

"Alyssum," Doctor Foster said as he ran a scanner over Papa's knees, "Was made to be a high end...servant, I suppose you'd say. Cook, clean, brew drugs for whoever bought her. And make poison, apparently. So she's extremely good with chemistry. Cooking is just applied chemistry, she says."

Papa blinked. "Is that why she smells like flowers? To be pleasant to be around?"

"She can change her scent. She chose the smell of the flower she named herself after. She can do other things with scent, too, but she doesn't like to do those."

That was all he would say. From his expression he thought he'd said more than he should already. For another twenty minutes he scanned Papa, building up a layered 3-D figure and nodding in satisfaction when nothing shaded red or black. "All right, Papa, you're looking good. I'll see you again in a week and stop by at once if you feel any pain or think something isn't working right."

That was the end of that and Papa headed out. This time he checked his schedule and learned he'd missed a two-hour block of assisting the tech crew with some project. Logically they were starting him out with technological fields on the basis of his species's very good hands and his son's immense aptitude with anything mechanical. Tomorrow he was to similarly help out the vehicle maintenance crew. He'd also missed a block of aptitude tests. He'd make sure to be at that one tomorrow.

His evening was free, though. He'd started the day at the commissary and he headed that way again. Alyssum wouldn't mind help with the dishes, or serving food. And though he'd only done a little of it, he already liked cooking. With a smile on his face and his best, albeit not very good, attempt at a jaunty whistle he padded on all fours toward his destination.

He would have missed the subtle distortion at the base of a hedge, long and low, had it not moved. Ink-dark eyes appeared in a wedge-shaped head as the dark furry shape of Sharptooth faded into view. Papa moved a step back, outside the invisible bubble of bite range, and the sable flowed after him on all fours before stopping with his muzzle altogether too close for comfort. 

He had the combat Uplift's full attention for whatever reason and Papa remembered what Ehrlich said about carnivore Uplifts and their predatory impulses. He instinctively arched his back to make himself look bigger and when that didn't seem to impress Sharptooth he cast about for an innocent subject to divert his mind from the fangs two feet away.

"Dinner's in a little while," he said weakly. "I hear there's a Terran dish Doctor Foster likes, ice cream. We're, that is, it's being served tonight."

"There are good instincts," Sharptooth growled as though he hadn't spoken. "Being nice to a lady. That is a good instinct."

He looked Papa up and down and turned away with a dismissive flip of his tail. For a moment he looked over his shoulder, his cold eyes fixed on Papa. "There are bad instincts too. If you hurt her, I will listen to them."

By the time the last word was spoken he was fading away, his fur perfectly mimicking the pattern of the hedge behind him. Papa could see him only as a barely visible ripple and as the hedge shifted in the breeze he lost track of even that. 

With a chill running down his spine Papa backed away from the hedge before turning toward the commissary. What was that all about?


	3. Sharptooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papa tries to make friends with the most feared Uplift in Sanctuary. But when it's make a friend or get eaten, you make a friend.

After helping Alyssum set up for dinner, checking the dishes (his memory was excellent; he remembered which ones she'd tutored him on earlier and learned two more recipes during setup) Papa found himself separated from Alyssum. She had a several interested Uplifts to tutor and he knew most of the recipes already. He was hungry and she shooed him away to go eat.

He selected some steamed shellfish that sparked vague memories of Earth river clams, some genuine Earth grapes (now quite a delicacy on Xandar and its colony worlds thanks to Doctor Foster introducing them) and some sweet beans before joining Ehrlich at a table. The big-tailed black and white Tech uplift he'd seen before showed up just as he did and sat as well.

Papa popped a grape into his mouth, his clawed fingers instinctively prying the steamed clams open for his later attention as he scanned the room. There were thirty or so Uplifts at Sanctuary at any given moment and most of them were here now, along with a dozen humanoids (mostly Xandarian) eating dinner before heading home.

Two tables away the combat Uplifts ate, the enormous Breaker sat down next to a gray cat Uplift he'd learned was named Foxtrot. Foxtrot: Feline. Papa: Procyonid. Foxtrot kept part of his designation as a name and maybe Papa would too. He hadn't decided. For now he was Papa.

On the near bench was the tall-eared, blackfurred bunny Blackjack and just more than biting distance away was Sharptooth, tail hanging down behind and muzzle bloody from his bowl of meat. Long of body and short of leg, shaped much like Lylla...and Alyssum.

"What do you know about Sharptooth? Does he have something going with Alyssum?"

Ehrlich and Jaja the skunk looked at each other. "Not like you do."

Papa paused, a grape almost into his mouth. "What does that mean?"

"What do you think?" Ehrlich leaned over and touched Papa's nose. "Smell. Not the food, dummy."

Papa sniffed. He was still adjusting to genuine rational thought and sometimes his senses got a bit confused. Now that he thought about it, he breathed in and recognized a multitude of scents. A dozen flavors of food, twice that many Uplifts, Ehrlich, Jaja...who smelled like each other.

"Oh." Papa looked from one to the other. "I see." He smelled his forearm. Flowers. Specifically, Alyssum. "So everyone knows?"

"Everyone who's smelled you two," Jaja churred. His voice was a deeper version of Alyssum's. "A lot of people sleep together here. And more than sleep." He smiled at the possum next to him. 

"But no, as far as I know..." Ehrlich looked across the room at Alyssum. "I heard they are from the same lab, but they aren't lovers."

"What you may not have heard," churred Jaja, lowering his voice, "Is that a few months back an armed Uplift hater snuck into Sanctuary. Sharptooth spotted him, called for backup. By the time Blackjack arrived Sharptooth had bitten through the man's spine and was eating him. Self defense, he said. The recordings backed him up and Nova took away the body...what was left of it."

Two tables away a head turned. Blackjack, whose left ear had swiveled around to face them a minute before, excused himself from the combat Uplifts and made his way over. He sat without asking for permission. His security harness gave him all the authority he needed. There was a pause as he looked at each of them in turn.

"All right," the bunny said. "Why this sudden interest?"

The addition of the bunny to the table seemed to create a gravitational effect. Alyssum, passing by with a platter, dropped it off at a table and then padded over as though sucked in. She, too, sat, pleasantly up against Papa in this case. He absently passed her a clam and she ate the meat off his claw before speaking.

"All right," she churred, unknowingly echoing the bunny. "What goes on?"

All eyed turned to Papa, who hesitated. But he had to say it. "Sharptooth threatened to eat me if I...if I hurt you, Alyssum. I don't know why he thought I would."

Blackjack sighed and looked away. "Sharp..."

Alyssum put her little clawed hand on top of Papa's, and turned to look at the sable across the room. "Sharptooth has had a hard life. We were made at the same lab, me as a purpose-built servant, him as...something else. His family was there too, but only we made it out when Nova hit the lab. I'm all he has left from that time and he thinks of me as family. So he's...protective."

What to do, Papa thought as they ate. He and Alyssum went and got more food for the table. Blackjack told a long, rambling and rather dirty joke (that may not have been a joke) about five Uplifts of various genders and species who got stuck in a travel pod and found...creative ways to pass the time until rescue. Blackjack turned out to be funny and interesting. There were just some things he wouldn't talk about, like pretty much anything regarding Sharptooth.

"It's not my place to say," he said as he finally rose. "I can't speak for him. Just be aware that if he weren't in control of himself he wouldn't be working here."

Papa sat back. He didn't like the idea, but something had to be done. He helped Alyssum do the dishes, kissed her, and told her he'd be back soon. He hoped.

Sanctuary was a three-quarter-ring of buildings surrounding a lawn where last night's social mixer happened. On one side of the opening toward the road was the clinic with its Welcome to Sanctuary plaque, on the other the security office. There on the porch, stretched out half asleep on the back of the far larger Breaker, he found Sharptooth.

Ink-dark eyes in a dusky-furred face snapped open as he approached. Sharptooth was at least a full head taller than he was, a long whip of cybernetically augmented weasel body and knife-sharp fangs. Those fangs came out as Sharptooth growled.

"What do you want," the sable snarled, rising up on his short but muscular legs. 

A brown eye in a wall of fur blinked open as Breaker, too stirred from her nap.

"You and Alyssum are family," Papa said as he nerved himself to step closer. He'd seen the sable spar with Gamora, one of the most feared combatants in the galaxy and four times the sable's size, and knew Sharptooth could kill him in an instant. Still he stepped forward, almost within bite range. "I will not hurt her. You have my word."

"You don't have a word to give," Sharptooth growled as he flowed down off the bear's back on all fours. "You don't know what you are, who you are yet. Others have thought they would not hurt her, but did. If you do -"

The sable bent in the middle in an almost invisibly fast motion as an enormous paw loomed over him. Sharptooth snarled but softly, slowly Breaker's hand-paw descended, leaving him plenty of time to avoid it. The sable stood stock still until the great paw pressed him flat to the wooden deck before stroking the length of his back. Breaker's arm was bigger than Sharptooth's entire both and she carefully, gently petted the whole length of him, ears to tail, before lifting her paw to start again.

"You touched me," he growled up at her, "Because I let you touch me."

"I know, honey," she said softly. "Now be nice to the new Uplift."

The petting brought some calm to the vicious Uplift and he turned his head to look at Papa. Somehow the raccoon found the strength to not back away as the lethal carnivore glared at him.

"You know fear," Sharptooth growled. "You fear them because of what they did to you. I know hate. Hate for what they made me do."

He paused, calmed by the motions of the huge bear paw. "Your Master. I know where he is."

"What?" Papa took a step back. "He's in jail. Rocket said -"

"I know which jail," Sharptooth growled. "I can get in. Tell me you will stay away from Alyssum and I will make him suffer before he dies."

"Honey, wait," Breaker said. "You'll lose your position, you could be arrested. And it's wrong."

"Sharptooth," Papa said, and as he looked at the savage Uplift his eyes misted over. "What did they do to you?"

"Stay back," the sable growled, and even Breaker went wide-eyed in alarm as Papa stepped closer. He knew Sharptooth could kill him with a single bite or disembowel him with a kick. But he couldn't help himself. Sharptooth drew his head up to bite but stayed frozen, unable or unwilling to kill the foolish raccoon even as Papa hugged him.

"I'm so sorry," Papa said as he breathed in the sable's harsh, angry musk. "I don't know what they made you do, but you don't have to hurt anyone for me. You don't have to hurt anyone if you don't want to. _No masters,_ Sharptooth."


	4. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are terrible secrets to be learned in Sanctuary. Papa now knows Sharptooth's, and he thought he'd heard the worst of it. He was wrong.

There was no concealing it. The bandages gave it away, the smart patches that sealed the four deep puncture wounds in Papa's right forearm and the gauze winding atop that. It was not a serious wound, given the almost magical efficiency of Xandarian medicine and enhanced Uplift healing. But you couldn't cover it up, and the second he walked in the door Alyssum knew where he'd been and what had happened.

“He bit you!” She dropped the broom and rushed over. Much of the cafeteria was automated and more could easily be, but she liked the personal touch. “Show me.”

Papa reluctantly extended his arm and she sniffed at the wound, her white whiskers twitching. “Did you go to the clinic? His fangs went in to the bone.”

“No, it's just smart bandages. If it still hurts in the morning I'll go. Don't worry.”

“I'll worry if I want!” He'd never seen her mad before and for a moment she was almost as frightening as Sharptooth. “He could have killed you!”

“But he didn't! You know I wouldn't last one second if he really wanted me dead. It was just reflex. It was my fault, I couldn't resist scratching his ears and I moved too fast. His reflexes, you know.”

I know.” Alyssum led him over to a table and fetched a pot of tea. She was only three feet tall but her internal cybernetics made her five times as strong as a forty-pound ferret should be and she carried the pot over with a tray of cups. There was a moment of silence as she poured.

“All right.” Alyssum sipped her tea and visibly composed herself before shooting a look at Papa. “Now tell me what really happened. You're scared of Sharptooth...or you were.” She tilted her head to the side. “But you're not any more, are you?”

“I'm still scared of him. But now I understand.” Papa fiddled with his spoon, seeing the way the steel contrasted with the polished metal of his cybernetic hand. Across the table from him was a pretty white ferret he loved after knowing her only half a day and he didn't want to say what he had to say next. He nerved himself up to do it and her eyes narrowed as he gathered his strength. 

“He told me what happened in the lab.”

“Oh.” She put down the cup. “How...what did he say happened?”

Papa leaned back on the hassock, just a little raccoon with good hands and a man-smart brain. And feelings. His eyes went distant as he remembered what Sharptooth whispered into his ear. He'd only hugged the sable for a minute, but in that time he learned awful things.

“They had a whole family, his whole family. His mother and father, two sisters, a brother...the cubs, himself, no more than half grown. They captured the adults on Earth and bred them in captivity, and when the cubs were growing they started Uplifting all six. They expected most to die, but all six took to the drugs and the implants. And then...”

“They didn't have the funding to finish Uplifting all six,” Alyssum continued, her eyes as empty as his own. “So they starved them, filled them full of combat drags to heighten their aggression, and threw Sharptooth and his sister into a pen to see who would survive.”

It was Papa's turn. He didn't want to continue, but he had to. “And when she was dead, and when he was hungry again, they threw in his brother.”

They were both silent, both near tears. It was easy to hate Sharptooth. He was twitchy, and angry, and ready to kill...because they'd made him that way. The only reason he survived was he was the meanest and the strongest. If he hadn't killed and eaten his brother, his sisters, and eventually his mother and father one of them would have killed and eaten him. Only one sable was going to come out of that lab. Only one did, a broken person who day after day only kept living by not thinking about what he'd had to do to survive. So Sharptooth masked his guilt in anger, and let people fear and hate him because he thought they would die if they came close. That the thing he tried so hard to forget would happen again.

“They built him to kill,” Papa said. “Internal cybernetics, poison bite, stealth, combat reflexes so wired in you can hardly touch him without losing a hand. And then they trained him and conditioned him and turned him into...just a thing that kills, and kills and kills. Drugged up, no food to eat but his own family. He almost can't help himself. That is why no one walks near him, why no one touches him but Breaker, who can absorb a few bites even from him. Because he was trained and trained and trained to kill and view others as just walking meals. And he's _trying_ not to, he really is...”

There was a pause as Papa gathered his strength. “And he said...he said they did the same thing to you. But they didn't train you to kill. They trained you to love.”

He reached across the table and took her hands, her warm furry hands in his one furry and one cybernetic one. “So I have to ask...is he right?” Do you have a choice? Because if you don't, if you have to love me for being nice to you, then Sharptooth is right. I'm a threat to you, and I should leave.”

She looked up from his hands. He could see that she'd heard all this before. How many times? How many potential mates had Sharptooth chased away, or had fled when they learned what happened in the lab?

“He didn't tell you everything, Papa.” It was her turn to pause, to look away. “Yes. I was made to be a servant, slave...lover. I was taught chemistry to make drugs, cooking, cleaning. Conditioned to like doing all that. And I was built, modified, to enjoy love. Sex, companionship...Uplifts often have compulsions. It's all right if we know about them and can control them. Did Sharptooth tell you what they found when Nova broke into the lab?”

“He said he was eating one of the scientists, that he got loose and killed every one he could find.” _Like Rocket did,_ he didn't say.

“He got loose because one of the scientists decided I wasn't accommodating enough. Not as willing to come to his bed as he'd like. He issued an order that I was to be forced into sex. For 'training purposes'. So I poisoned them. They were very careful not to let me into the chemistry lab and then the kitchen, I always had to decontaminate to make sure I didn't put something in their food. But I could go straight from the lab to their rooms. They searched me, scanned me, but I knew how to beat that. I made a poison, something I could put in myself, that was harmless to me but killed any humanoid who had sex with me. By the time Sharptooth escaped, most of them were already dead. Including the guards.”

She turned back to look him in the eyes. “This is why the others who might have stayed with me left. Not because they are afraid of Sharptooth. He doesn't understand that I am more of a threat to you than you are to me. They left because I told them, as I'm telling you now.”

She blinked away tears, struggling to keep her eyes on his. “And I'll understand if you leave too. Now that you know what I am. But...”

Her grip on his hands tightened, warm and soft and strong. “Yes, I fall in love easily. Part of that is conditioning. Part of it is just...me. But Sharptooth is wrong. I know I'm horrible. I'm a monster, on the inside, but still a monster. But I do have a choice. And I chose you, Papa.”

“You're not a monster.” The same empathy that made him hug Sharptooth - safer to hug a chainsaw! – welled up in Papa's chest. “You're a victim. You fought with what you had, and you won.”

“Many of us...” He paused. “Many of us were made to be weapons. We're dangerous, in different ways. Rocket can make bombs that blow up planets. Lylla can talk anyone into anything. Sharptooth can disappear and kill with one bite. Most of us are _dangerous,_ Alyssum.”

He gripped her hands, soft and warm and furry. “But I'm not. I'm not a fighter, Alyssum. I just want to help. And people here need help. You need help in the cafeteria. Sharptooth needs someone to hug him and tell him it wasn't his fault.” He smiled at her horrified expression. “Yes, I hugged him. And others need help, too. I'll stay. I'll help out around Sanctuary, help in the kitchen. I'll tell Doctor Foster tomorrow that I don't need technical training. Everything I need to learn, I can learn from you...and the others who have learned their lessons the hard way.”

“And if you'll have me,” he said, and it was the last thing he said before he leaned over and kissed her, “I'll stay with you, too.”


	5. No Masters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guardians were only gone for four days. A lot can happen in four days, it turns out.

"I was worried about you, Papa," Rocket said. He paused to pour himself a shot of the glowing blue liquor, tossed it down, coughed, refilled Drax's shotglass and continued. "I didn't wanna leave so soon after your Uplift but we had to hit that lab before they bugged out. I was worried you'd have trouble. An' I come back, four days later..."

He gestured at Papa and Alyssum, snuggled up together on the opposite bench much as he and Lylla were snuggled up on theirs. "An' you already got a girlfriend, an' you already got a job!"

Papa smiled and rubbed the badge on his harness. The straps still bore the red banding of a new Uplift but the counselor's badge meant he wasn't just a temporary resident of Sanctuary any more. Now he had duties, responsibilities.

"It just sort of happened," he said. "And it was more like one day, not four."

Rocket grumbled and Peter reached over to scratch him behind the ears. Mantis was similarly attending to Lylla and Drax, seated next to Papa and Alyssum, was leaned over so he could pet the ferret with the far hand and Papa with the near one.

"I mean," Rocket said, and gestured helplessly. "How did it happen so fast? It took me years to get past...what happened. You just bounced right back."

"You had it harder than I did, Rocket." His son snorted dismissively and Papa continued. "No, really. Most of what they did to me happened when I was just an animal, or only partly Uplifted. I don't remember much and it all happened in a few months. You had all that while you were aware, and then years of people treating you like you didn't belong. No one was nice to you, Rocket."

Rocket was still giving him a doubtful stare so Papa went on. "Remember what you said. Good people saved you. Good people brought you back from the edge after what the lab did to you, and what you did there, almost made you go bad forever. If there'd been someone there early on, someone to be nice to you, maybe it'd have been different." He gestured at the lawn, the grill where Kraglin flipped burgers for hungry Uplifts, the furry inhabitants of Sanctuary talking, laughing, dancing. 

Gamora walked up with Sharptooth at her heels, the sable panting from their sparring, and sat. The dark-furred weasel flowed up onto the seat next to her and very slowly, watching for permission, she reached out. When he didn't growl or snap at her she began to scratch him behind the ears.

"Someone has to be nice, Rocket." Papa went on. "Someone has to be there for these new Uplifts as you free them. We can give them food and medical care and freedom but someone has to be the good person, the nice person who helps bring them back from the edge. That's all I want, Rocket. I want to help them."

"If it hadn't been for Doc Foster, an' then Groot, we never woulda met," Rocket murmured. "I woulda been dead, or a monster, just like they wanted me to be." He looked up and his voice returned to normal. "An' Pete getting us together, an' me an' Lylla never woulda happened." He leaned over to nuzzle his mate. "Okay. I gotta admit, bein' nice for people who need it sounds like a damn good idea. Just not my job, I'm not equipped."

Sure as he was that he lacked the basic empathy for simple kindness, he was wrong. He proved it right there as he poured liquor into a clean shot glass and slid it in front of Sharptooth.

The sable blinked, distracted from the ear scratches. "I can't," he growled as he looked down at the glowing blue liquid. "It wouldn't be safe."

"Buddy," Rocket said as he took another shot himself. "Pete is sitting there with a gun and I got enough explosives on me to level this place. We're both drinkin'. I know you're dangerous. We're all dangerous. But we trust you or you wouldn't be sitting there."

Sharptooth hesitated, then gripped the glass in the polished hullmetal claws they'd given him in place of his own and slugged it back. Lylla smiled and gave her husband's neck a whiskery kiss as Rocket poured the sable another shot. As Rocket and Sharptooth gradually drank themselves into a stupor, supervised by Gamora, Peter and the others drifted off to the gazebo for a private talk.

"The new Uplifts should arrive in the morning," Lylla purred. "Sixteen were recovered from the lab. Two are partials and the ethics team will go over whether to complete their Uplifts. Some of the others will need treatment. Rocket sent scans." She nodded to Doctors Foster and Zek, the latter nervous as always when around Uplifts but a competent doctor in his own right.

Alyssum nodded. "I'll check with Nova on their species and work up some meal plans. That'll carry us through until I can find out what they like."

Drax spotted Breaker and headed off to talk to the towering bear. She was the only person he could go all out against and the furniture and architecture of Sanctuary often suffered as a result of their sparring.

"More naked bear wrestling," Star-Lord said, then perked up. "Hey, you two know, right?" He nodded to Papa and Alyssum and touched his nose. "You know if they're really...you know."

"Why do you care?" Lylla purred. "Rocket and I are different species. Do you think that all we do in our room is sleep? And all these Uplifts here, a lot of them are the only one of their kind. Would you have them all be celibate?"

"Yeah, but -"

"And I heard about you and the askavarian," Alyssum added. "All those tentacles!" She knelt down - not very far, as she was little - and picked up Comet the cyborg cat to pet.

"That was one time!"

"It should have been my sister," Sharptooth slurred as he contemplated his fifth or sixth shot. His rapid metabolism made him a quick drunk, though he'd burn it off just as fast. "She was the smartest one of us. If I hadn't, hadn't..." he buried his face in his hands. "I didn't deserve to get out. Not like that."

"You can't change what they did to you," Rocket said, almost as drunk. "Or what you did to stay alive. All you can do is, an' I'll lie if you tell Pete I said this," he pointed a claw at Gamora, "Try to be a better person. Don't let them win, man. Every minute you spend eating your own guts out is another minute they win."

Rocket turned, and Sharptooth followed his gaze. Papa only spent a few hours in the metal shop; by the time he went to help out there he already knew what he wanted to do with his life. But above the cafeteria door was the product of his labors, a metal plate with two crudely inscribed words. They spelled out in just nine letters what the Guardians and Sanctuary were trying to achieve.

NO MASTERS, the plaque read.


End file.
